A Sense of Worth
by fantasymonk
Summary: Sequel to 'A Past and a Future', this is now the third in a trilogy. Logan has realized he now has a future, but has yet to realize that others may value him far more than he does himself. Rated T for language and some violent situations.
1. A Sense of Worth pt 1

One blasted image teasing my mind's eye... that's all it took for me to go 'well crap', and lo and behold, third X-men fic. Sigh. Hope everyone enjoys.

* * *

Logan's teeth clicked together as he slammed into something hard, an audible crack briefly overshadowing all other noise in his ears, although he wasn't entirely sure if the sound was from him or the metal table he'd crashed into. The sharp pain briefly washed his vision with red before the surge of emotion was tamped down. Mystique was the wrong opponent for his rage; she was too precise, too clever by far to be bested by sheer brutality. Not to mention one damned tough woman. She'd openly laughed at his surprised expression when they came face to face, as he'd never expected to see her again after skewering her on Liberty Island. Logan could hear the sounds of battle behind him, drawing his focus back to the current fight, but had to leave Storm and Cyclops to their own devices. He had enough trouble keeping Mystique busy without having to worry about them and their skirmish with Sabretooth and Magneto. The feral countered a vicious kick while snarling mentally at the memory of seeing the shaggy mutant. There was a face he'd hoped to never see again. After what the savage male had tried to do, both to himself and Marie, Logan could safely say that there was no love lost between them. At least now they knew who had gotten Magneto out of the prison that had been tailor-made for him; the blue shapeshifter was highly skilled in the covert ops department, so it was no real surprise. Still, it would be aggravating as hell to have him coming up with mutant supremacy plans again. Oof! Got a roundhouse to the ribs there, gotta pay more attention to the limber lady. She smirked at him, her expression tinged with something more than just humor. There was a gleam of attraction in her eyes and the scent of it in the air. Oh fu-… Just… no. Their fight was actually turning her on. She was a weird one, all right. Logan growled his dismissal of whatever the hell she was trying to do. Maybe distraction, maybe not, but either way it wasn't going to happen. _Ever_. His claws flashed through the air, putting her briefly on the defensive as she dodged the razor-sharp edges. No way to block those, huh? His snarling grin made her glare in return. Now this was more like it. A loud roar and the sizzle of lightning sounded behind him as Sabretooth went flying through the air and landed in a heap on the floor of the warehouse they were fighting in. Heh. Sure sounded like Ororo had her fill of the blonde feral, too. Mystique looked at something behind him suddenly, launching a vicious series of attacks that had him working desperately to keep his footing in the debris they'd scattered during the fight and driving him back a good dozen feet.

"Erik!" Her yell made hazel eyes widen. What the…? Then there was the damned pull at his bones as an irresistible force sent him in his own flight pattern partway across the open space to crash into Scott.

'Damn it! Sorry Cyke, you okay?" Scott looked winded, barely struggling to his feet as Logan gave him a hand up. The shapeshifter sure played dirty, but hell, he'd have pulled the same trick in her place. Still, it made a growl rumble through him. "Storm, we need some cover darlin'!" he called, knowing she could hear him in the echoing space inside the large building. It was felt before it was seen, the growing dampness against his skin as tendrils of fog rose around them, blanketing the warehouse interior. Ororo always did take pride in her work. Wolverine allowed a slight grin before turning his attention back to the team's leader. "Cover Storm's back while I look for the blueprints."

"Logan, we have to stick…! Together…" Scott was exasperated, pounding a fist into his open palm as the hazel-eyed feral disappeared silently into the fog. Of _course_ he would go off on his own. Still, it was a sound plan for being spur of the moment. Splitting up while distracting the opposing force would give them the upper hand for a while, and if you needed something found, Wolverine was a safe bet. Cyclops headed in the direction of a flash of lightning to give Storm backup, putting his trust in their feral teammate to hold up his end.

x_X_x

Logan prowled quietly through the fog toward the other end of the warehouse, sharp eyes able to make out stairs leading up to an office that barely rose above the layer of white curling around him. Well, if he were something that could be filed, that's where he'd be. Better take advantage of the distraction before they were found out. In moments he was up on the second level and inside the door, its lock giving easily to a sharp claw. He'd feel bad about vandalizing the property later, but only after they'd kept Magneto from getting what he wanted. Logan made straight for the large metal filing cabinet at the other end of the room and opened drawers until he found the category he needed, rifling the edges of folders. Aha… Gotcha. A single manila folder was pulled up and opened, fingers extracting the folded piece of paper he was after. The feral wasn't sure exactly why Magneto wanted these lab blueprints, but hell, if the old guy wanted to get just a stick of _gum_, he'd do his best to prevent it. In his limited experience, nothing Magneto wanted could ever turn out well. The crisp, translucent material was folded a couple more times and stuffed down into the front of his uniform before he quickly shut the drawer. Now, to get back to the others. But as he readied to turn, he found it impossible to move. Oh damn… Footsteps were heard outside on the metal stairs, slowly and deliberately moving closer.

"Did you really think I couldn't feel the metal in your body, Wolverine?" came a sneering voice from behind, drifting through the open door. "It was child's play, I assure you." Logan was lifted a few inches off the ground and rotated slowly to face Magneto, who was giving him that superior look the older man seemed to have perfected. Wolverine's body was flung open, just like he'd been positioned on the damn train when Erik had been after Rogue. "Where are the building plans?" If Logan could have shrugged, he would have. As it was, he just fixed the other with a look of boredom.

"Don't know, haven't found 'em yet. But good luck." He grinned slightly, looking far too cocky in his current situation to suit the silver-haired mutant holding him magnetically captive.

"They're looking to make a cure, Wolverine, a way to rid the world of the mutant gene. And I can assure you the military would find uses for it that would do none of us any good." Logan couldn't deny that, especially when it came to the more unscrupulous military organizations like the one Stryker had headed. But that wasn't the point.

"Still doesn't justify whatever devious thing I'm sure you're planning. That'll only get people turned against mutants even more. Destruction and death kind of do that," came his wry response. Magneto's eyes were cold.

"You're one to talk," he sniped, taking a jab at the feral's own penchant for causing those same two things in droves. Logan didn't take the bait, keeping himself calm.

"And that's why I'm not in charge, Buckethead." Magneto glared at the ridiculous name, making Logan chuckle. The mirth was cut off though as he felt his bones shifting, grinding against each other and _pulling_. That's what he got for trading barbs with a man who was a literal magnetic force to be reckoned with. Sweat broke out on Logan's brow as he clamped his mouth shut over the groans that wanted to burst out. A pained chuff of air did make its way free through his nose when his right shoulder was suddenly yanked from its socket, eyes closing against the triumphant look on Magneto's face. Had to stall him for a bit, just had to keep the guy busy and out of the others' way so they could neutralize Mystique and Sabretooth.

"Shall I dislocate all of your limbs, Wolverine?" The tone was conversational, casual, which made it all the more chilling. Magneto had a talent for viciousness that went beyond survival or self-defense and dwelt more in the psychopathic realm. He might have even temporarily forgotten about the blueprints in question, more focused on his enjoyment of torturing the mutant at his nonexistent mercy. Logan panted sharply for air, adamantium forced out from between knuckles, right forearm angling toward his own body so the sharp tip of an outermost claw was directly in front of his left eye. The pain from having the dislocated joint move around was excruciating, the threat of having an empty eye socket all too real, but Wolverine ignored all of that. Just a little more time, if the scent he was catching could get up those stairs quietly enough, and then it would stop.

"I guess we'll both do what we've gotta do," he replied tersely, gaze holding Magneto's without flinching even as the gleaming metal crept closer to his vulnerable eyeball. It wasn't all bluff; he'd accept the pain if he had to, for the mission or his team. But he was secretly glad it wouldn't come to that this time as a red flash of energy met with Magneto's back and sent him barreling forward to land ungracefully on the floor. The other mutant's loss of consciousness and subsequent loss of focus meant Logan was left to drop several inches back to the industrial tile beneath his feet, staggering slightly and hissing as the jolt went through his right shoulder. Scott caught the reaction, concern evident as he spoke.

"Are you all right?" Logan nodded silently. He'd have to look around the lower level to find a good place to whack the joint back into alignment, since there was nothing suitable in the office.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Scott took him at his word, apparently, because he didn't question further. After all, it wasn't really openly obvious that one arm was dangling uselessly at his side.

"Did you find them?" In answer, Logan lightly slapped his chest with his left hand, hearing the blueprints crinkle softly under leather. Cyclops grinned broadly.

"Good work, Logan." He companionably clapped the taller mutant on the arm. The right arm. Logan's face went pinched and pale in less than a second, but he didn't make a sound.

"Let's just get out of here…" The feral gestured for the other to lead the way, hoping Scott wouldn't notice the strained tone of his voice, and they headed down the stairs. The fog was receding rapidly, showing the prone forms of Mystique and Sabretooth flat out on the cold concrete, and the sight warmed his heart greatly. A grin spread across his lips in spite of his aching shoulder. Speaking of… Logan sighted a support column halfway to their exit. Well, that would certainly do it. He lagged behind the other two, veering slightly toward the sturdy concrete and aiming… just… right! With one sharp forward movement, he slammed his upper arm into the column, forcing the joint back into the socket with a sickening sort of crunch. The choked gasp that resulted was still audible even as he tried to stifle it, and his teammates whirled around defensively before gaping at him. He didn't have the energy just then to do anything but lean against the unyielding surface and breathe until the haze of pain ebbed. Logan straightened and started walking again, passing Scott and Ororo with a look that didn't encourage questions. "I'm fine," he muttered gruffly as they followed, shaking their heads with mixed exasperation and amazement.

x_X_x

Hours later, Magneto and his group had returned to their underground base of operations, seething from the loss they'd suffered. Their leader's pride had taken the largest hit, having been blocked right in the middle of his plans by a mutant he considered far beneath him in every way. Mystique was watching him silently as he sat behind a large metal desk, fingers drumming very occasionally on the cold surface.

"My dear, I will require your services," he said finally, meeting her yellow eyes with a rigid expression. "I will not allow that animal to keep getting in my way. He needs to be taught a lesson about interfering." The devilishly pleased grin that appeared on her face was answered by his own smug smirk.


	2. A Sense of Worth pt 2

The atmosphere after the successful mission was lighthearted and relieved. They exited the jet into the hanger where Jean stood, having been waiting for Scott. The X-men's 'power couple' left the area with purpose, ready for some premium relaxation time together. Storm was not far behind them, though, and Logan figured she was primed for a little downtime of her own. Probably fix herself some classy hot beverage and curl up in her room for some peace and quiet. As for himself, he needed to get the blueprints to Charles so they could be returned to the company that owned them, with the warning of keeping them far safer in the future. Logan was aiming to do just that when he saw Ororo's pace change, a little surprised when her steps slowed and then stopped before she turned back to smile at him, waiting for him to reach her position a few yards away. Once he was right by her side, she put out a hand and lightly touched his arm.

"You did really well today, Logan," she told him, true sincerity and affection in her voice. "Even if you were a little reckless…" she added in a more chiding manner, although there was laughter evident in her dark, sparkling eyes. He couldn't help grinning.

"What can I say, darlin'. Just can't help myself." She chuckled and shook her head, just glad that everything was okay. Judging by what she'd heard from Scott, things could have gone worse if Magneto had been able to spend much more time with their Wolverine. The weather manipulator didn't like to think about that too much, because it brought to mind the real horrors that had been experienced by the brave feral who fought at their side, although she couldn't say why she felt so strongly. Storm only knew that she felt a definite kinship with Logan since they'd rescued him from the once-abandoned Alkali Base some months ago.

"How about you don't make a habit of it, hm?" came her teasing reply before her hand dropped from him and she moved away once more. He watched her until she'd disappeared through the exit, mesmerized by the grace and ease that came to her so naturally. Logan couldn't say what was happening, or the exact moment it began, but somehow being around Storm made him feel… different. Oh, they were still friends, and teammates like always, but he was just so much more _aware_ of her presence in a way he couldn't explain. Even now, even through the leather of his uniform, the feral could swear he felt the warmth of her touch. And whenever he chanced across the residual scent she left behind in the school, he would invariably pause for a second to just take it in, feeling it seep into his soul like a calming salve. And it all started with that one sweet, chaste kiss to his cheek months ago. Logan shook his head, trying to clear it. He wasn't some foolish kid to go mooning over a girl because she was gorgeous or showed him the slightest bit of attention. But damn if that one act hadn't thrown his world for a loop. A half-grin tilted his lips as he pulled an unlit cigar from a pocket in his uniform and clenched it in his teeth, striding from the hanger. Well, it couldn't hurt for a guy to dream, right?

Storm exhaled a breath as she passed through the hanger exit, heading for her room in eager anticipation of a relaxing shower. She couldn't believe she'd done that, just touched Logan so casually. She wasn't one to do that sort of thing normally, but it had felt natural and instinctive, right up until she started actually thinking about what she was doing. Was she… coming on to him? To the Wolverine? Her white head shook slightly. No, not really. But she felt a strong connection to him somehow. Not love, of course. That notion was dismissed readily. They were good friends, but that line had never even been drawn, much less in danger of being crossed. Still, she knew there was _something_ between them now. And it all stemmed from being allowed to see him at his most vulnerable, his lowest emotional depth since joining the X-men: first when he'd woken up in the med-lab after being recaptured by Stryker, and then later on in his room, when he'd as much admitted he had no sense of self-worth when it came to the people in his life. She'd been startled both times by his lack of self-regard, seeing the true shame the feral carried around with him at the belief that he was just an animal and that there was no reason for anyone to care about him. Granted, his recent captivity and torture had probably just brought those feelings more into the forefront of his mind, but in all likelihood, they were always simmering just below his subconscious thought. Logan kept them buried under a gruff exterior and that 'stay away' demeanor he projected so well, but some part of him had been damaged deeply. Storm wished Logan could drop his defenses and let her in once more. No matter her motivation, friendship or… something beyond that, Ororo would give much to see that sweet, hidden soul show himself again.

x_X_x

Logan stood outside the mansion surveying the quiet grounds, enjoying the peacefulness of a school in session as he smoked a cigar. The feel of the wrapped leaf beneath his fingers, the smoky heat of it being pulled into his lungs, and the lazy smoke curling upward into the air were a trifecta of Wolverine Zen, one which he felt was quite warranted after actually getting the best of old Magneto earlier. The successful mission deserved a celebration, so after talking with Charles he'd headed out to the back, standing on the patio area outside where his nicotine vice was allowed. The cigar was burning slowly, evenly, and he prolonged the pleasure by drawing on it only occasionally, forearms resting on the railing where he stood a good twenty feet from the entrance. The pleasantness of autumn was beginning to give way to winter, and a noticeable chill was obvious in the late afternoon air. His favorite kind of weather, really, all the better to enjoy flannel and layers. Ah, the little comforts… A small, private grin formed on Wolverine's lips just before he heard quickly approaching footsteps. Thanks to his early-warning detection system, AKA his senses, and the metal giving his already sturdy frame an extra boost, the feral was well braced by the time a Marie-shaped projectile launched itself against his side and about squeezed the life out of him. If he hadn't been in the middle of happily contemplating the vastness of silence, he probably would have laughed out loud right then, but he did bestow a rare welcoming grin on his best girl. Classes must have let out while he was standing there soaking in the tranquility.

"Hey kid, what was that for? Not that I mind, but I'd like to know what to do more of in the future to get that kind of reception." He smirked a little at her, pleased to see his teasing bring a laugh. She let go of his waist and propped herself on the railing next to him, mirroring his leaning, relaxed posture.

"Nothing special, just glad to see you back in one piece, is all." The admission was soft and honest as she tucked a strand of white behind one ear. God love her, she always worried about him when he went out in the Blackbird. Logan could never get enough of just being _liked_ by this sweet teenager. It was addictive, and all the scarier for it. Good things just didn't last long for him. That thought was determinedly pushed aside. No sense in ruining a perfectly nice afternoon with such morbidity. He grinned more openly, expression brightening in a way that made Rogue's heart warm. As far as she was concerned, Logan deserved all the good stuff that came his way, since he'd had precious little in the years he could remember. So anytime she could put that kind of look on his face, she did so without hesitation and without reserve.

"Good to be appreciated," he quipped, taking another draw on his cigar and exhaling the smoke out and away from them so that it was whisked away by air currents. Marie shivered slightly, almost comfortable in her long-sleeved tee, sheer scarf, and thin gloves, but caught off guard by the whisper of air across an exposed bit of neck as the breeze caressed her skin. Logan noticed the slight reaction and draped a warm and heavy flannel-covered arm around her, letting his body heat help keep the slight coolness at bay. The ease they shared with each other was a personal treasure to him, one he was thankful for every day. She was one reason he was beginning to feel more comfortable again at the school after his recent brush with his past. Another was the fact that he was being accepted by others, both students and staff, which was honestly a _damn_ good feeling. The third reason… well, that little tidbit was something he wasn't going to think about too much. After all, how did you go about telling a goddess that she made you feel almost human?


	3. A Sense of Worth pt 3

The Danger Room had definitely seen its share of use over the years; from flaunting nifty oversized robotic opponents, to run-of-the-mill snatch and grab exercises, the programmable room was the site of many a young mutant's experiences in learning how to effectively use their powers. The X-men's last mission, the one up against Magneto and his crew, had been weeks ago, and Logan was more than willing to let off some steam against virtual enemies while teaching the kids. This particular session had most of the more advanced students in his class going up against a military-style team, similar to the group that had attacked the mansion, with the action taking place in what could have been the school's spacious grounds. It was Charles' way of mentally preparing the kids for encountering a situation like that again, and Logan couldn't fault him. Nobody wanted to freeze at being confronted by a terror from their past, and he should know. Truth be told, they weren't doing half bad. Kitty had just phased down into the ground, causing the soldier attacking her to flail a bit as his forward momentum didn't encounter resistance. She then rose back up into existence behind him and delivered a roundhouse kick to the back of his head, a slick maneuver that earned her Wolverine's rare grin. Kid wasn't too shabby. Looked like she'd learned a few things since that rescue mission, or at the very least, had gained a good amount of confidence. Rogue was holding her own too, from what he could see out of the corner of his eye while engaging his own trio of attackers. It was amazing what a few months could accomplish. Marie hadn't managed to control her skin completely, but work and practice had enabled her to at least control the flow of personality and memories that would normally inhibit the use of her power when it kicked in. When she focused on it, she could choose to pull only the person's life force, or mutation, making her far more effective in a fight. It was almost amusing to watch soldiers dropping like flies as she touched one or another, her brows drawn together with concentration and a fierce expression that could help you forget her apparent youth.

"Bobby, look out!" she suddenly yelled, warning her boyfriend of a sneak attack as the kid engaged with two guys at once. Their feet were iced to the ground, and he ducked quickly, dodging the rifle butt that had been aimed for his head. He stumbled slightly as a rock turned under his foot, but recovered with grim determination, shifting quickly to the side to avoid the follow-up attack that would have landed in his gut. Drake's next move was to fling ice at the other guy's eyes and, while the soldier was trying to claw his vision free, the kid knocked his feet out from under him so he landed hard. Well, well, Popsicle had guts. Good for him. He'd need 'em to keep up with Marie. The feral grinned again and returned focus back to his fight, although at the moment there was no real need. He could just about fight on auto-pilot if he had to, muscle memory and senses leading him through maneuvers that he couldn't remember learning while still being aware of what was going on around him. Like, for instance, the fact that Storm was a good dozen yards to his left and taking care of business, her way with small tornadoes giving more than one soldier a severe case of vertigo. Logan chuckled under his breath, honestly wishing he could spare the time to sit back and just enjoy watching her go all out. Instead, he disarmed his last opponent by clawing the soldier's rifle into four separate pieces, and then headbutted him into oblivion. As fun as this was, the class was almost over, so better wrap it up.

"End program!" he called out, watching the participants get their equilibrium back as the scenario faded out to reveal the Danger Room's plain interior. Hands on his hips, Logan surveyed the gathered kids for a second. "You all did good this time, pulled together and used your powers effectively." He nodded in a pleased way, proud of how far the youngsters had come in his time at the school, and they looked just as proud to have his praise. The feral gave a little half grin at that. "Okay, hit the showers, or do whatever. See you next week." Danger Room sessions for the students could be pretty intense, so they were held on a weekly basis, giving Logan time to plan out scenarios and teams. The students all headed for the door and into the hall, splitting up naturally in whatever direction was needed. Logan could practically smell the eagerness as Jubilee and Rogue came up behind him, turning to cock an eyebrow in question. It was obvious they wanted something, as they were both acting a little anxious and fidgety.

"Where you headed Logan?" Rogue's soft voice was curious, hopeful.

"Thought I'd go into town and grab a few." Both girls knew he was talking about beer, and Jubilee practically pouted.

"C'mon Wolvie, did you forget that we're having a barbecue for supper? I was looking forward to hanging out, but if you go drinking, you'll lose track of time or end up in a fight or who knows what…" The brightly-dressed girl crossed her arms and glared at him. Beside her, Marie was looking as if she agreed, although her expression was more sad than anything. Logan refrained from reacting with amusement or rolling his eyes, knowing that wouldn't end well for him with these two, keeping his tone calm and even as he replied.

"I did remember, actually, not going to miss it. Just wanted some quiet before I have to deal with all the activity later. Maybe think about some things while I'm at it." He barely caught sight of Ororo moving down the hall, just a glimpse of her white hair accompanied by the slightest bit of her scent, leaving him feeling stunned and relaxed at the same time. Oh yeah, he needed to think some stuff over big time. He didn't see Jubilee looking at him suspiciously, as she was wondering if his distraction meant he wasn't being entirely honest.

"Do you promise you'll be there?" she fired at him, hands on her hips and her gaze locked on his as he looked at her fully. It was kind of funny to see, he was sure, the diminutive Firecracker toe-to-toe with Wolverine, who towered over her, with a kind of challenging gleam in her eyes. But Logan was truly startled at her sudden confrontational manner. What had riled her up this time?!

"Sure kid, I promise. I was looking forward to it, actually." That was the truth. Cyclops would be presiding over the grill later, and though it was still fun to annoy the guy every once in a while, they'd been doing much better. And during the time since Logan's rescue, he'd learned some things about their leader, one of which was that Scott had a way with ribs and steak. The prospect of indulging his carnivorous side had the feral almost salivating with anticipation. At his words, Jubilee 'stood down', relaxing her stance and nodding as if she'd achieved a victory.

"Okay then," she said, grabbing Rogue's gloved hand. "We'll see you later, Wolvie!" They disappeared from sight, leaving him shaking his head, wondering what it would be like to live in a normal place and have a normal life. Probably boring as hell.

x_X_x

Logan walked into the garage, enjoying the familiar smells of engine grease and upholstery. Without thinking he angled toward a motorcycle, one Chuck had actually gotten for him after Scott's had perished underwater, but then he thought better of it. He was only going to be gone for a short while, and the 'cycle was his favorite for long stretches, with open air and sensory delights available for his enjoyment. Maybe the Wrangler, then. Just as he had turned toward the Jeep, a little breeze ghosted past, bringing the familiar scent of ozone and rain, and the feral almost rocked back on his heels with the pleasure of it.

"Hey 'Ro," he said offhandedly, working to keep his face friendly and neutral. Damn, it was hard to maintain as his hazel eyes shifted to see her coming in with a smile.

"Hello Logan. You're heading out, right?" A dark eyebrow arched. It was pretty obvious that he was, seeing as he was here in the garage and moving toward a vehicle. Ah, the pretty lady was angling for something, of course. He inwardly smirked, nodding his head.

"Yep. See you later, Storm." He got a quick glimpse of startled features before he turned and started toward the Jeep again, unable to hide his amusement and grateful his back was to her so she couldn't see. It'd be a bit embarrassing to show up at the bar slightly scorched.

"Logan, wait!" The feral paused as if this were unexpected, slowly turning to face her, managing to school his features into polite, quizzical neutrality. "I was hoping you could pick something up on your way back. Seems we're out of ice cream and Jubilation insists that a barbecue needs Cherries Jubilee." The white-haired woman grinned, obviously understanding the joke, and so the appeal, of that particular flavor of dairy treat to the Firecracker. The smile lit up her face completely, all open joy and laughter, and he almost lost his breath for a second. Damn, she was… wonderful. His brain had stalled at thinking of any better descriptor, he was so floored.

"Uh, sure, yeah. No problem." Logan refrained from shaking his head like a dog to clear it, but only just. He felt almost fuzzy, but in a pleasant sort of way, like everything was warm and comfortable and… damn, he needed to get into the cool air and get his mind back into order. "One order of Cherries Jubilee, gotcha. I'll see you later, 'Ro." He waved back at her as he turned quickly, deliberately not paying attention to any scent indicators on whether she was startled or mad about his abrupt departure. He'd apologize later if he had to. But what he needed at that moment was a chance to settle in and just gather his scattered thoughts.


	4. A Sense of Worth pt 4

Logan stared at the dark amber bottle in his hand, two empties already on the bar in front of him. He'd been sitting there for a good hour, savoring each sip or gulp, and wasn't much closer to a resolution of thought than when he'd started. Hell, it wasn't really a question, was it? He knew he was feeling something for Storm, something that definitely didn't seem like just lust. He was entirely familiar with _that_ emotion after years of using the fight circuit for cash. No, this was completely different, and he wasn't sure what to do with it. Maybe he'd felt that way before, in his past before his memories were stolen, but he didn't feel equipped on how to deal with it in the here and now. Logan took another gulp of beer, the current bottle half empty. It wasn't just his own feelings he needed to think about though. What if… what if she didn't see him that way? She was a pretty cagey woman, calm and neutral in her everyday life, although there was plenty of evidence of her sweet and nurturing side. Usually it was apparent around the kids at the school, or like back when he'd been recovering in the medical lab. Definitely not a standoffish thing to do, giving him that kiss on the cheek, or championing him so fiercely when he was being down on himself. The feral couldn't help chuckling into his next swallow of beer. She sure had been gunning for him, hadn't she? But in the best possible way, in a way that made him feel good inside. She'd actually _cared_. Cared enough to give him a verbal kick in the ass. He couldn't remember the last time someone had shown that level of concern for his well-being. Like he mattered… He'd never before thought about his presence meaning a thing to _anyone_, because if he were honest, it really hadn't. His life up until the school had been all about fighting, and keeping on the move, and just existing. But as the saying went, that was then, this is now. And 'now' meant he had the school. And Marie. And maybe… Ororo? That sweetness she'd shown him, that could be built into something, a relationship maybe. He could sure see her as someone to spend a life with. She was equal parts nurturing and untamed, fierce and so gentle, both a match and a counterpoint to his wild nature.

Aw hell, he was just going in circles, mentally chasing his own tail. He knew what he felt, what he wanted. Did he have it in him to court the lady? Maybe even be rejected? Logan snorted softly. That would hurt. But it would surely be better to know where he stood than having to endure an endless emotional merry-go-round. That decided, Logan took down the last of his beer in two long swallows. First, he'd pick up the fruity ice cream Jubilee wanted. Then he'd go enjoy some good food and the company of his friends. And after that… Well, he'd just have to see. Logan stood up, digging his wallet out and putting money on the bar to pay for his drinks. Just as he was turning, he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made him literally freeze in mid-motion. Short-cropped graying hair, goatee, and glasses… What the hell?! When he completely turned around and focused on the spot, there was no one. Was… was that…? There was no way that could have been Stryker. He couldn't remember a hell of a lot from his rescue, as he'd been pretty out of it. But the others had told him most of what had happened, and they seemed to believe that no one had survived his… breakdown, much less the following rush of water that had completely covered the complex. Logan strode over toward the outside door, where the figure had vanished through, and caught no trace of the man's scent. There was only somebody's cheap cologne, applied liberally enough to make his eyes water and his sinuses itch for a sneeze. Damn it. Was he seeing things? It honestly wouldn't surprise him if his fractured mind had finally devolved into hallucinating. The feral huffed softly, trying to clear his nose of the stench, and walked outside. Taking in fresh air was a help, although the lingering cologne was out there as well, just diluted by the breezes and the scent of greenery and crisp coolness in the air. He knew Stryker didn't wear whatever that crap was, but it was the only 'trail' he had, so to speak. Feeling slightly ridiculous about chasing a figment of his imagination, Logan hesitantly made his way toward the edge of a small wooded area where the trail of scent was heading. His instinct was clawing at him, putting him on edge, but he still crept forward, eyes darting around. Had he finally jumped off the crazy cliff? There was nothing there. Just inside the small grove of trees he stopped, increasingly wary. Nothing on the wind, nothing in view, but he still had the feeling of being watched. It was a bit maddening, actually, as if his fear was making him imagine things.

"Ah, Wolverine. Welcome to our little party." The voice came from above him, the deep resonant tone instantly recognizable as Magneto's. Hazel eyes looked upward, snarling as he saw the impeccably dressed mutant hovering what had to be two dozen feet above him in the air, a veritable lord of all he surveyed, the assh-… A flick of a wrist and something floated down and over to where the feral stood, some weirdly shaped metal object hanging in front of him. The hell? It looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite grasp the significance. Then something suddenly clicked; his mind had only an instant to scream in recognition… _flashbang_!... before there was a sudden, intolerable swell of light and sound, and he was falling to his knees in agony. At first there was nothing, blank silence in place of sound, and burning retinas instead of sight, furious blinking doing nothing except to make his eyes water. The next sensation was a pinch at his neck and Logan swatted at it, feeling a small piece of metal that had been embedded in his flesh as it fell away. The quick action was too late, though; the contact point was numb, and then the rest of him was as well, and he just began to fade away. His last thought was an exasperated 'Oh hell, not _again_…!'


	5. A Sense of Worth pt 5

Wolverine groggily opened his eyes to mere slits, feeling dry-mouthed and lethargic coming off of whatever sedative Magneto had dosed him with. Somewhere in front of him was a very bright light, and he squinted. Even with his pupils diminished into miniscule dots, it was still painful to look ahead, and he canted his head sideways a little to try and ease the intensity while his eyes adjusted.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Wolverine." Logan snarled reflexively as annoyingly familiar tones washed over him, going from confused to confrontational in an instant.

"What. The. Hell?!" The feral was raging mad, not really noticing at first that he was bound to a concrete wall by iron bands, or that Mystique and Sabretooth were standing just behind their leader. "Am I wearing some kind of invisible sign that can be seen only by psychopaths that says 'Hey, see this guy here? Yeah, why don't you abduct him and do horrible things because hell, he can take it so why not?!'" Whatever the old guy had planned could never be anything good, and now he was gonna find out up close and personal. Logan pulled at the restraints keeping his arms close to the wall. He knew it was hopeless, but he was so angry that it would feel worse to not try and do _something_. "Come on, Magneto. You don't have enough to do going after helpless humans, you have it in for other mutants, too?" The tone behind his words was scathing, and Erik's gaze narrowed. With a gesture he locked the feral's jaw shut, leaving the bound mutant impotently growling deep in his chest. Sabretooth shot Logan a leering grin that showed all of his sharp teeth, relishing the sight of his hated enemy trussed up and helpless.

"Don't you talk to me that way, you insufferable animal," his captor sneered. "I've had all I'm going to take from you. You are here to learn a lesson about your place in the scheme of things. Once that is done, I wash my hands of your savagery." Hazel eyes went wide. S… Savagery?! The old guy was one to talk, after almost killing Rogue while carrying out his half-baked scheme to turn world leaders into mutants. More attempts to fully move his wrists caused a dribble of red to form a trail down the right one before the wound healed over. Logan heard Sabretooth's chuckle, smelled his delight at the scent of the bound feral's blood, and only growled louder. Then Mystique added her cruel laughter into the mix, moving forward lazily to trail a finger up his side and along one muscled arm, brushing over the soft flannel-clad surface almost intimately. Under the material his hard musculature was still easily evident, and her body's reaction was immediate. The Wolverine's nostrils flared slightly, obviously catching her scent as his eyes widened incredulously.

"I don't know Erik… once your lesson is over, I might be able to find some use for him." That brought out a stifled howl of rage, making her boss give a condescending grin.

"Why, my dear, I didn't realize you wanted a pet. We'll just wait and see, hm?" He did love how her vicious mind worked; it was obvious the mere threat of that was sending Wolverine even further into a rage, his panting snarls echoing in the empty space of the basement they'd brought him to. At this rate, the brute would break rather quickly. Magneto tutted softly to himself. It would be a pity to end the entertainment sooner rather than later, but a lesson worth teaching, nonetheless.

x_X_x

Jubilee drummed her fingers on the picnic table, barely noticing the activity around her as she stared at the doorway leading to the mansion from the patio. Rogue walked by and saw her sitting there, stopping to drop down beside her on the bench.

"Still no sign, huh?" The shorter girl shook her head, fully intent on keeping watch. A plate of ribs with a baked potato was sitting in front of her, forgotten. Rogue couldn't help but grin. As flighty and hyperactive as Jubes could be, when she really wanted to, she could focus the heck out of something.

"He _promised_…" the other girl whined suddenly, sounding both petulant and worried. Rogue could understand her feelings. It wasn't like Logan to break a promise, especially one as straightforward as this had been. The barbecue was in full swing, and they'd expected Logan at least a half hour before. That was even with factoring in a good couple of hours to pack away some beers, but he still hadn't shown. It also wasn't like Logan to miss the chance to enjoy the bounty of meaty delights to be had: there were racks of tender ribs, both plain and slathered in thick, sticky sauce, and several steaks cooked to just above rare to suit the feral's preference. She could tell the adults were noticing his lack of appearance by then, too. Scott was glancing over at the mansion sometimes, and Storm had just returned from a short flight into the air, apparently looking in the direction of the road in case a familiar Jeep could be sighted. Thankfully, the other students seemed pretty oblivious, and could enjoy the day's events, but that left Rogue and Jubilee on their own in a state of uncertainty. It was the worst feeling of déjà vu ever, just like months ago when Logan had failed to come back from a spur-of-the-moment trip because he'd been… Rogue shook her head, censoring the thought. Nope. Didn't need to think about that. She saw the professor look over at her sharply, belatedly giving him a weak smile in hopes that the school headmaster would direct his attention elsewhere, but the hope was quickly shot down.

***Are you worried? You're not alone in that, believe me, my dear.***

His mental assurance settled her nerves slightly. With the X-men on his side, Logan would certainly be all right. He was part of the family, after all. The silent conversation was cut off, leaving her with the impression that the older telepath was determined. She turned to look at Jubilee.

"They're worried too," Rogue said, nodding toward where the teachers were conferring together. The Asian girl watched with interest.

"Oh wow, even the prof looks anxious," she blurted out, and Marie gave her a hard nudge. "Sorry!" Jubilee protested. "But he does. Hopefully that means action will happen soon." The Southern girl nodded her agreement. From what they could see, it looked like all of Logan's friends were ready and willing to take action on his behalf.


	6. A Sense of Worth p 6

Okay, the big surprise here is that this story is actually finished. I was just hashing out the final chapter before mass uploading. Man, I have the hardest time with pure emotional scenes, especially trying to make them sound authentic to the characters, and realistic. Hope everyone enjoys the rest of the story in its entirety! The last part is a bit open-ended, but I liked where it left off. Fair warning, chapter 8 is pretty long because I couldn't figure out where to break it up.

* * *

Logan hung there in the dark, glaring out at nothing in a futile show of anger. From what he could tell, it had only been a few hours since waking up that first time, though even with his internal clock it was hard to gauge the passage of time in the pitch-black basement. Magneto and his play pals had come down to visit four times since his capture, and each time was a repeat of the last: insults, pain, blah blah. He was getting really tired of being the go-to mutant for others to get out their sadistic jollies on. Damn it, was that all he was good for? It sure felt like it, sometimes. Immediately the feral growled softly, shaking his head in self-recrimination. No, he wasn't just an experiment, he had a home. And people who cared. And they would find him. He hoped… Logan was truly worried that Magneto knew a way to cloud Xavier's ability to find him with Cerebro, much like his metal helmet thwarted the professor's gift on his own person. Hopefully the Brotherhood leader hadn't put quite that much thought into whatever this was. Lesson. Hazel eyes rolled in derision. What a joke. A quick jerk of his arms still didn't do anything to budge the tight iron bands, and the feral grunted with brief pain as he ripped skin yet again. From the other end of the basement he saw the dark interior begin to lighten, and clenched his fists as the brightness seemed to drift closer. It was a bare-bulb workshop light, same as each time before, manipulated by Magneto's powers to give the ability to see only when they needed it, leaving him in complete blackness when they weren't interested in their captive. Logan stayed still, glaring as they approached, and trying to present as much of a defiant image as he could while bound to the wall. His appearance made that harder than it would have been, his wife beater and flannel shirt shredded in many places and bloodstained, grime and sweat making his skin feel sticky. He probably strongly resembled a crazed degenerate, and sounded like one, too; it was hard to not growl constantly, as bad-tempered as he felt. His hair, while never quite 'tamed' at the best of times, was reduced to sweaty spikes and cowlicks. Magneto couldn't help smirking with satisfaction as he walked closer.

"My poor Wolverine, this could all be over if you would just admit that you are the unworthy animal you've always been." The words were a mix of false sympathy and cruel triumph, tone making Logan shoot him a murderous look.

"That isn't true, and you know it!" he snapped back. "You're just a self-righteous jerk-off." His angry words got him an immediate and painful magnetic tug over his entire skeleton, making the feral gasp and hang there for a second as his nerve endings restored themselves to normal.

"Sabretooth, it looks like we still need to teach him something. Let's see if we can get the animal to come out and play." The big blond male grinned eagerly, making Logan snarl at him as he approached. The name of the game seemed to be 'hurt Wolverine until he goes berserk,' and Logan was fighting it for all he was worth. He braced himself as best he could, watching large hands raise, fingers extended and hooked so the dirty claws were caught by the light, and then swift slashing motions followed. The bigger feral was merciless, taking great delight in not having to hold back on his attacks as he opened up wounds on chest and shoulders.

"Just give in, Wolverine," Mystique purred, watching blood trickle down tanned skin before the wounds closed up, leaving only stained clothing behind. "The pain will go away if you give in to your true self and become the animal. You know that. Only the animal can help you now." Logan shook his head doggedly, keeping the rage pushed down.

"Go to hell!" He glared at each of them in turn, even as Sabretooth opened a group of deep furrows down his left leg from hip to knee that also shredded the jeans beyond repair. If it weren't for the thick leather belt holding them up, it was likely they would have fallen from lean hips and humiliated him further. Logan choked mid-snarl on the pain and then growled deep and low, briefly losing hold over the rage that threatened to swamp him. It wanted to rise up and take away the pain, give him complete feral freedom, but it wasn't what he wanted. He… he would prove he was more than that, no matter the cost! "I'm not!" That was directed at Magneto with an accompanying glare. Mystique was at his side suddenly, fingers probing the ruined jeans to stroke over the exposed bare skin of his hip. She swirled her fingers in the blood that hadn't been reclaimed, relishing the feel of smooth flesh before raising her hand to paint his lips with sticky crimson. Logan almost gagged at her nearness, jerking his head to the side, as far away from her touch as possible in his captive position. She laughed and wiped her fingers on his jeans, close to the inner thigh. His fists were clenched as he tried to corral his thoughts again, sweat beading over his body as the fight for dominance raged within. "Not an animal!"

"I think you know differently, Wolverine," Magneto retorted. "Look at you. You're practically reduced to a snarling creature who can barely talk." The derision was evident in his voice, and Logan felt an icy knot in the pit of his stomach. Damn it! "Please continue Sabretooth." The pain began again, with Mystique watching from a close vantage point just to his left, yellow eyes locked onto the scene and her scent filling his nostrils even over the stench of his own blood.

"I am not…" Slash. His head was flung to one side by the powerful blow. "Not an animal. Not an…" Another vicious swipe, laying open his cheek enough to reveal gleaming adamantium. "I'm not..!" Logan closed his eyes without realizing it, unwilling to see the gleeful light in Sabretooth's dead gaze, the amount of satisfaction they were getting from tormenting him. God, it was worse than being in Stryker's hands. How could they do this?! He was a mutant too, for fuck's sake, he'd been brutalized by humans for who knew how long, and they thought this was fun? He felt sick and empty inside, the turmoil almost his undoing. Rage wanted to rush in, fill the void, take away the doubts and hurt and just let him escape the cruelty by indulging what they wanted him to be. No! Logan struggled, not physically, but mentally. He shuddered as another slashing blow tore more remnants from his sleeveless undershirt, this time across his belly, almost deep enough to loosen the viscera contained within. A growling whine burst from his lips. He couldn't give in, not now, not when he'd learned so much at the school. He knew without a doubt he wasn't just an animal. Storm and Marie had showed him that by believing in him, caring about him, and he wouldn't disrespect them by not doing all he could to fight the anger that threatened to consume him. His chin was practically on his chest, panting breaths soft but steady as he tried to focus inward and ignore what was being done to him. Visions swam before his closed eyelids, the faces of his teammates, Charles, Marie… Ororo. Blood ran, skin burned and healed, and he barely held onto the wall of pain that wanted to color everything in red. But he did it! A laugh burst from his lips, surprised and relieved. "I'm not an animal, you asshole!" he shouted, eyes snapping open to direct the insult at Magneto. Erik seemed taken aback by the indomitable defiance, the sudden burst of clarity in those hazel eyes. His own expression darkened with rage.

"You're less than an animal, you're pathetic! You have no one, you _are_ no one, and your only worth is in what others can study from your miserable hide!" The iron bands suddenly ripped from the wall and Logan gasped as he was flung forward toward Magneto, who spit on his face. The feral barely had time to register the saliva dripping down his cheek before he was sent forcefully back to the wall again. Logan felt the pull against his metal skeleton, solid frame flung _hard_ into the concrete behind him. It was hard enough that all the breath left his body, head slamming against the unyielding surface and making him see stars just briefly. Arms were forced straight out on either side, flush against the wall, legs only slightly apart. He must have bitten his tongue because blood filled his mouth, making him gag for a second before it healed. Then, a moment's reprieve before all he knew was pain.


	7. A Sense of Worth pt 7

With the light dimming outside and evening fast approaching, the barbecue was beginning to break up. Some of the older students helped take platters and dishes back into the mansion to put away leftovers and prepare for cleanup. Rogue and Jubilee exchanged meaningful glances and moved toward the cluster of X-men who had taken themselves apart from the rest of the get-together in the last half hour of the meal.

"This isn't right, professor," Rogue said anxiously as they approached the adults. "Logan should have been home ages ago. There's no way he would have been this late without calling." Xavier nodded slowly, looking so serious that it made her stomach flutter with nerves.

"I agree with you, Rogue. Scott, would you go check the location of the vehicle Logan was driving? Ororo tells me it was the Wrangler. That will give us a starting point." Cyclops was immediately in action, glad to be doing anything other than standing around and worrying. He was also grateful they'd thought to put GPS devices in all the school vehicles; Logan's recapture by Stryker had brought up the need for the precaution. In hopes of keeping their minds off of their missing X-man while they waited, the others began helping clear up the patio. With so many hands, though, the work was over far too soon. The students assigned to kitchen cleanup headed to their tasks, leaving the small group behind to huddle together worriedly. Scott appeared then from the mansion, urgency in his steps. He made sure no one was around before speaking.

"The Wrangler is currently parked at a bar about twenty miles away. According to the tracker's data, it's been there for over four hours, so that means it's been there since not too long after Logan left this afternoon." The professor's eyes tightened at the corners slightly, showing his inner concern.

"Jean and Ororo, please take a vehicle and go scout around. No uniforms, however. I think we should find out what happened first to best know how to proceed. I'll keep in touch with you, Jean, so please keep us informed about what you find." The redhead nodded as she and Ororo got the directions from Scott and headed out.

x_X_x

The drinking crowd was in full swing when they got to the bar, a small place called Drifter's End that would probably suit Logan perfectly. Only one television was sounding off in a corner where a pool table was being used by two burly men wearing what looked like the standard uniform of factory line workers. The bar counter was worn and pitted, and the booths and tables were done in dark brown vinyl for longer wear. It was overall fairly dim and innocuous, a good place to lose yourself for an hour or two. From what Jean surmised, there was little chance any of the patrons had been around long enough to notice Logan earlier, and if they _had_ been, they would probably be too drunk to be of any use. With that in mind, they headed toward the bar after a short, quiet conversation, figuring their best bet was one of the bartenders. There were two on duty. One was a pleasantly attractive young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, and probably working her way through some school. The other was a slightly older man with flecks of gray in his trim goatee and dark brown hair. Jean focused on the girl, while Storm talked to the guy.

"Excuse me, but were you working here a few hours ago? I was hoping to find out if you saw someone," Jean asked. The woman's name tag said Andi. She fit the perky name, slightly upbeat and smiling, but genuinely friendly.

"Yeah, I was. Got a pic? Description?" Jean nodded shortly. The other woman seemed nice, but the telepath was too worried to do much about pleasantries.

"He's pretty tall, and built, with dark hair that goes down into sideburns and chops, as strange as that sounds." Andi's eyes widened in recognition.

"Oh, I totally know who you're talking about. He's a looker, isn't he?" She gave a little wink. "Yeah, I was serving him while he was here. He had a few beers and then left. Didn't really pay me any attention, which I gotta say is pretty unusual." She was matter-of-fact, not offended, just curious. "Seemed to have a lot on his mind, cuz he was nursing those three beers for a good hour. Guy like him, with his build… I figure he should have put them away in at least half that time and come back for more." Jean had to chuckle at the spot-on assessment.

"You have a good eye," she admitted with a wry smile. "I'm one of his friends, and we're worried because he never made it home this evening. Did anything strange happen while he was here?" Andi thought about that, absently polishing the counter with a cloth.

"Hm… Well, just as he finished his last beer, he sort of… froze in place. I know that sounds weird, but he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. Then he headed outside. Next thing I know there's some big noise from out there, like the biggest tire blowout you ever heard. Joe swore he saw a UFO flash across the sky, but he's usually a little drunk, so I wouldn't put too much stock in his fantasies." She chuckled softly. "Oh, and a couple of regulars told me they barely missed being hit by a truck pulling out of here as they drove in. That's pretty much it," she said with a shrug. Jean's mind was reeling. Looked like her current partner was done as well, because Ororo was coming toward her. They regrouped over to the side to avoid being overheard.

"Well, in spite of the fact I wouldn't give him my number, Ben there says he saw Logan, but that Andi was serving him and…" Jean took her arm, unable to stop the smile on her lips.

"You really must do some good with that power you have," she teased, then became serious. Storm was on the verge of retorting when she noticed the shift in emotion and waited while Jean led her back outside. "Andi told me about Logan's time here, and that something happened outside just after he left. Some kind of very loud noise, and then a truck left here in quite the hurry, that's all she knows." Ororo's eyes scanned the parking lot, which was really not that big, and settled on a small stand of trees thirty feet away. The light from the streetlamps barely showed a set of ruts in the grassy soil from tires pulling away at high speed, seeming to have come from that treed area. She wordlessly pointed it out to Jean and they moved in that direction.

***Professor, we have a lead. Logan was here this afternoon, but he didn't stay long. Whatever happened, it occurred right after he left. It doesn't look good…***

She felt a quiet acknowledgement of her message, and then they were at the trees. The sun's waning light wasn't penetrating far, so Storm pulled a small flashlight out of her belt, sweeping the ground with its bright beam. On the ground were three faint sets of footprints. One set was obviously Logan's: clearly a pair of worn boots, man-sized, that ended in a small area of disturbed soil, as if the man had hit the ground in a heavy heap. The second trail was strange, as the prints started out as large shoed feet, and then gradually changed into smaller prints that were surprisingly devoid of shoes. The third trail just abruptly started in the middle of the ground and continued on beside the changing set. They both looked at each other. A female shapeshifter… and a man who appeared able to float. Shit.

x_X_x

They had barely followed the muddy tire tracks down the road before the trail began to fade as the dirt dried and refused to leave itself behind anymore. At least they had a general direction, which only led to a couple of neighborhoods and some outlying land. Storm and Jean regrouped back with the X-men, and it was decided that they should split into several smaller teams to cover ground better. Storm and Rogue headed toward one neighborhood while Scott and Jean went to the other. The rest of their group remained at the meetup point where the Blackbird was waiting, with Kitty, Bobby, and Jubilee on board. It was a flashy mode of transport, and almost pointless with how close the destination was, but it did contain a small med bay. That was always useful with Logan's track record, and it could hold the entirety of the team who wanted to come. Charles was staying back at the mansion and tracking their movements with Cerebro in case he could pick up anything around them, as well as providing telepathic lines of communication. Considering who they were up against, the entire team and then some wanted in on this, which was why they had such a large show of force. There could be no underestimating Magneto's capability. The plan was to canvass the neighborhoods and see if anyone had noticed anything out of the ordinary. It seemed a shot in the dark, but it was better than nothing. They were all extremely worried of course, having no idea what Erik could possibly want with Logan, but Storm in particular couldn't stop thinking about the feral, her mind caught in an anxious loop of 'what-ifs'. If she didn't control herself, she'd be of no help! Finally, she managed to meditate a bit on the flight over to calm down, knowing she would be useless if she couldn't focus. Once on the ground it was a little easier, with a purpose in mind to drive her worried energy. Evening had fully set in by then, and they had to knock on doors, as there weren't really many people still outside in the cool darkness. Most of the residents were nice about it, as she and Rogue explained they were looking for a missing friend. Some regarded the two women suspiciously, but who wouldn't be a little wary seeing strangers at their door so late in the evening? The search was not going well until they came to a small gravel lane that indicated the main neighborhood was changing into a lesser-tended county area. The older couple whose house was right up against the small road were congenial and welcoming. Why yes, they had heard a noisy truck pass through, going quite fast. It had even left slight gouges in the gravel that would have to be repaired before the next rain if they didn't want mud everywhere. But the only thing in that direction was an abandoned house that had been damaged by a bad storm two years prior. The residents had simply taken the insurance money and moved elsewhere, and the property sat untouched. Rogue and Storm knew such a place would be a prime location to hide out.

***Charles, we have a possible destination. About three miles north of my location, there's an abandoned house. It looks as if the truck headed in that direction. Please relay this to the others, tell them to meet us near here.***

And that was all they could do at the moment. Rogue thanked the elderly couple in her sweetest Southern manner for their help, making them gush over how polite and darling she was. The two mutants shared a brief grin as they left, glad to find some genuine kindness in a world that normally just reminded them how awful humanity could be.


	8. A Sense of Worth pt 8

"I don't see why we couldn't find a nicer place to teach him in," Mystique commented offhandedly, eyeing the state of disrepair they were surrounded by. The ranch style house had been pretty at some point, but that time was far past. The roof was partially caved in, many of the windows were broken, and moss was growing on some of the walls. The basement below was even worse, of course, but that wasn't her problem. They were sitting in what was once the kitchen, although the appliances were gone, leaving only the rotting cabinetry and torn linoleum. The cheap chairs and table they were currently using had been furnished by themselves, and had certainly not been picked with comfort or style in mind. Magneto didn't take offense at her words. He didn't like the place either, but it suited the annoying brute, and it was away from prying eyes.

"Sometimes you take what you can get, my dear," he replied without heat. "I suppose he's had enough time to think it over." They both shared malicious smiles at the thought of their 'student' languishing below in the dark. Before they could move, however, the tap of claws on the kitchen window echoed through the empty room, a signal from Sabretooth who had been posted as lookout. "Damn it!" Erik cursed, hoping it was just some random passerby. It couldn't be possible for them to have been found so quickly. The Wolverine was known to leave for days or weeks at a time. He surely wouldn't have been missed so soon. Mystique was at the door immediately, with Magneto not far behind, greatly aware of how little 'ammunition' he had available. What little metal there was in the house had mostly rusted, leaving only bits of wiring and some light fixtures in the ceilings. The main part of what he could use was down in the basement, metal trusses left behind when the plan had been to repair the house, before it was abandoned. It didn't seem to be a sound strategy to leave himself as the last defense, when they had no idea what they were up against. With that in mind, he exited the house with his shapeshifting second-in-command, and was immediately dismayed by the sight of an array of X-men standing about seven yards away. Sabretooth was snarling quietly to the side, awaiting orders, but Erik knew at this point it was more feasible to plan for escape rather than victory. Much as he hated to leave the animal with only a partial lesson, it was far preferable that he keep his own freedom.

"Erik?" Mystique's voice was quiet, but controlled. It was obvious she was ready for whatever he decided.

"Make for the truck," he hissed. It was unfortunate that their mode of transportation was actually a little bit in the direction of their adversaries, and that he couldn't use it to fight with because, well, it was their mode of transportation. Sabretooth threw himself at the line of opponents, the quick action catching them off guard, thankfully. A short brunette yelped as the big feral surprisingly went through her, making a grab as he passed by but missing. Cyclops sent out a beam toward Mystique, but she quickly flipped to the side. Sabretooth was back in the fray, wielding a small, sturdy tree and distracting the X-men leader as well as most of his team while they focused on the immediate threat. Magneto and the blue shapeshifter took the opportunity to head toward the truck. She jumped into the driver's side while he maneuvered into the passenger seat. Erik had at least a brief moment of satisfaction at the thought that even though he'd been forced into stopping his plan prematurely, the X-men were going to have a damned time getting their animal freed. His lips curled into a vicious smirk. Meanwhile, Sabretooth had the group of mutant heroes clustered to one side as they tried to corner him, but Mystique gunned the motor and sent the truck careening toward them. Startled, the opposing mutants could only jump out of the way as it passed through, and the blond feral jumped into the open bed, flipping them a middle finger as he did. Storm glanced between the retreating vehicle and the house, torn.

"Jean, is he nearby?" she asked urgently. If Logan wasn't there, they'd have precious little time to follow. The redhead focused, but it wasn't long before she opened her eyes again.

"Yes, he's here somewhere!" Scott tensed.

"Forget them, search the house first," he said, running toward the open door. The inside was derelict and depressing, and apparently empty, at first sight. The immediate area was just a bare kitchen with a battery-powered workshop light set up on a plain, worn table. Great, the place had no electricity… A search of the rooms turned up nothing, but then they focused on a door off of the kitchen. Once opened, it revealed a set of stairs that led into complete darkness, making Ororo swallow hard. Jean came forward and touched her arm lightly, concern in her eyes. The white-haired woman shook her head.

"I'm fine. We need to focus on Logan," she murmured. Louder, she said, "Scott, Jean and I will check it out first. If or when we find something, Jean will let you know." Cyclops nodded reluctantly, but could understand where she was coming from. There was no telling what had happened there and the team's leader was reluctant to expose the students to such an unknown. Jean ignored the immediate swell of protesting young voices, leaving them to Scott, and waited as Ororo took a breath and then placed her foot on the first step. She appeared to take the 'dive in' approach, heading down the dim stairway rather quickly. Storm skidded to a stop as she reached the bottom of the stairs, barely noticing Jean's huff of surprise and the scrabble of a hand on the railing to keep from falling into her white-haired friend. They'd reached a bare basement, the dark space itself barely illuminated a few feet in by the light from upstairs. What they _could_ see was all grey concrete and dripping moisture, the starkness bringing to mind the interior of the Alkali Lake base that had been destroyed. There was a strong, cloying smell in the air, a definite metallic scent of blood, but with a subtle difference. It was as if there was something more than just the usual iron, something stronger, somehow… Oh God.

"Logan!" Storm called, eyes frantically searching. The basement was of a decent size, larger than the house above, and the smell grew stronger the farther in they went. It got darker too, with no windows and no lighting, making a depressive space, and even more so in their current situation. Could this have been what Logan's surroundings were like when he was being experimented on? Ororo shivered slightly, pushing the thought away. They needed to see, badly. She fumbled at the waist of her uniform, pulling the small LED flashlight from its zippered pocket and pressing the button that flooded the surroundings with a crisp, white light, then gasped in horror. Directly in front of her was a figure hanging from the wall. No, not hanging, _pinned_. Like some insect on a display board, Logan was held against the cold, damp surface by thick pieces of metal, harsh, sharp edges protruding from wrists, forearms, thighs, and calves. It was almost a macabre parody of a crucifixion, and the sight made her feel vaguely sick. Dried rivulets of blood stained his flannel shirt, undershirt, and jeans, and had even trickled down to streak bare feet that made him look even more vulnerable. Dark rust-colored trails marred the wall behind him, as the porous material had soaked up what it could, in spite of the chill humidity in the air around them. Logan was shivering minutely, although he didn't appear to be conscious, not fully, at least. His grey wife beater and overshirt were dampened, skin obviously pale and clammy even from where she stood. Adding to the grotesque sight was the state of his clothing, the material torn and bloodied in multiple places from what must have been vicious blows from sharp claws. Some of it was barely held together by threads, including a broad section over his belly and a long swath of missing denim all down the left front leg of his jeans. Storm almost whimpered at the gruesome sight, the amount of rusty-red staining the cloth around the damaged places leaving no need to guess as to what had happened to him.

"Oh my God…!" Jean's voice sounded from behind, a few seconds late in seeing their fellow X-man's plight. The doctor in her took over and she moved closer, fingers gently lifting the lolling head, opening unresponsive eyelids. "Logan, can you hear me?" There was no sign to indicate she'd been heard, and she grimaced. He looked in bad shape, respiration weak and temperature lowered, both from the surroundings and his injured state. His moist, cool flesh brought to mind death and decay, not the usual warm vitality they associated with the feral, and it made her heart sink into her stomach. "We've got to get him out of here!" Storm couldn't agree more, but immediately saw a problem.

"How do we get him down?" Dark eyes glared at the cruel makeshift pins keeping the insensate feral upright. Jean bit her lip, thinking. Most of their available powers wouldn't be suited to the task. Colossus could be strong enough, but probably couldn't grip the crude spikes of metal well enough, especially if, in the process of removal, they became slick with blood.

"I… think I could use my telekinesis. Otherwise I'm not sure how we're going to pry them from the wall straight out so they don't do any more damage than necessary. My powers have gotten stronger, so I'm pretty sure I can remove them _and_ keep him up." Storm nodded slightly.

"If you could, that would probably be for the best. He might not want the kids to see this…" Jean started, glancing back over at Logan briefly, but could see the truth in that. Logan was a big supporter of not overprotecting the students, but there was no good reason for the younger members of their team to see the effects of metal being forcibly removed from flesh if it wasn't a complete necessity. And most importantly, not witnessing it demonstrated on someone they cared about. She was pretty sure _she_ didn't want to see it, to be honest, but in this case, sadly, it truly was necessary.

"Okay. Give me a second to update Scott." The redhead fired a quick message to her fiancée, letting him know they were okay, but to keep the rest of the team upstairs while they worked with Logan's situation. Scott caught enough of her underlying thoughts to understand how bad it looked, and in turn let her know that he agreed with their assessment. Jean then turned her attention back to Logan, feeling equal parts nerves and the anticipation of a doctor wanting to help someone. With a mental wince of regret, because she knew he wasn't quite fully unaware, she exerted the power of her mutation, aiming it at the spike in the feral's left wrist. At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly it began to edge outward, but it was taking a good deal of concentration to do the job carefully, and even more work just getting the piece free from the wall in the first place. She worked hard at maintaining the slow, even pull until it finally popped out with a wet slurping sound after almost ten minutes of patient maneuvering. Logan's body twitched, but he didn't make a sound, and Jean let out a breath. Hopefully he wouldn't wake up for the entirety of the process, because it would certainly not be a joy to experience. She knew it probably hurt some even in the feral's half-unconscious state; it had to, with the skin having healed around the intrusions, and trying to continuously heal even as she was working to remove the first spike from his body. The redhead gathered her power again, determined, ignoring the dank surroundings and Storm's wide-eyed stare. Logan's left forearm was the next focus, another jagged chunk of metal removed in the same painstaking manner. Thankfully his healing factor hadn't been taxed enough to slow down _too_ much, and the wounds were closing fairly well, leaving behind angry, red gouges in his skin that at least weren't bleeding out. Two down… six to go. Jean focused then on the right wrist, and was working the thick spike out when Logan lurched slightly and flailed his free left arm, crying out with a hoarse, wordless sound. His head swung back and forth as if he couldn't focus, then hazel eyes fixed on them, pupils enlarged with pain.

"No! Not an animal!" he rasped desperately, only half aware of visitors and completely uncertain about what exactly was happening. All he knew was he was feeling the inch-by-inch emergence of that damaging metal, and believed Magneto was removing it the same way he put it in: slow and torturous. Jean was horrified at the distress he was clearly radiating, halting her efforts for the moment and hurrying to try and reassure him.

"Logan, it's Jean and Storm, we're here to help you! I'm sorry it hurts, but we need to do this to free you!" The white-haired woman came closer to him, and his focus shifted immediately, eyes fastened on her blearily.

"Logan, we're very sorry to hurt you," Storm murmured, eyes wide and expressive with sorrow. "But please understand we are helping, okay?" Logan took in a shuddering breath, seeming to come back to himself a little, left arm hanging limp with fingers twitching. He looked between them, not believing at first, but then realizing they were actually real.

"I… 'Ro, you're here," he said, voice thick with emotion, and she nodded, unable to speak for a moment at the sheer depth of relief in those words.

"Yes, I'm here. Try not to move, Jean is getting you free, but the metal pieces are deep in the wall." Logan grimaced, knowing how bad it was going to be, and wanting no part of even more pain, but it would ultimately be worth it. Damn, it was gonna hurt like hell, though. He gave a short nod of permission, gritting his teeth as the piece of metal began moving again. Choked grunts managed to make their way out of him, flesh holding onto the intruder as it left, trying to close over and tearing again, but finally it was free, dropping to the floor with a clang as Jean released it in disgust. Logan's vision was blurring with the pain but he shook it off.

"Next. Keep going, Jeannie." The redhead looked reluctant, but couldn't deny the need, in spite of what it was putting him through. Pain flared in his right forearm, and he stared hard at a small puddle of water on the floor, which would ripple whenever an occasional drop landed, trying to ground himself in something besides the agony. His breathing became faster, heavier, mouth tightening, and Jean wanted to cry.

"I'm so, so sorry Logan." Her throat felt choked with emotion, feeling a sense of great remorse that he had to experience it like that. If she could put him out for a while, like the professor was able to do, she would, but her telekinesis was still the stronger gift even with the strides in power that she'd made. Besides, by that point the impression she got from his mind was that it was so jumped up on adrenaline and pain that it was highly unlikely she'd be able to succeed even if she _did_ try. Minutes passed, ticking away while Jean worked on her next metal adversary, managing to finally free it with a gasp from Logan. God, there were still four of the damned things for her to remove, an estimated forty minutes of terrible pain screaming through his sensitive nerve endings. She hated this! Damn Magneto and whatever reason he had for doing this to their teammate. Jean caught Logan's expectant, pain-filled look and refocused. No time to waste; the sooner she freed him, the sooner they could get him back home and tend to his injuries. The feral could feel her power begin propping him up as he'd lost the last of his upper body support, and he was thankful for that. There was no way he could keep himself upright, sweat sheening his entire body, pain and exhaustion making muscles tremble. It was really all he could do to keep his head up. A hoarse whine burst free as his right thigh twitched with the sudden pain of flesh tearing, losing all hope of focusing outward and closing his eyes. It had worked before, maybe it would work again… His face was drawn, pale, and a soft growl rumbled out before he swallowed it. Hands tightened into fists with white knuckles, the only movement he could make, damp concrete letting moisture seep into his back. Focus on faces… No, not faces. _Her_ face. Ororo's loveliness filled his mental vision, the mere sight fading out Jean's choked apologies and the trace of salt from tears that threatened to fall, although if they were from the redhead or Storm, he couldn't tell. The pain had begun to recede slightly, letting him breathe, getting a good lungful of 'Ro's pure, clean scent. It washed through him, cooling the burning from healing wounds even as he shivered from a slight fever. Logan's body was fighting as best it could, playing catch up with the constant repetition of wound-and-heal. A distant sound of something metal hitting concrete, and then, more pain. _Always_ more pain. No! Focus on 'Ro, just focus. Invisible support cradled his weary form, offering comfort even as he hurt. Right calf in pain, its turn to burn and heal and the pulling was so damn painful... Oh God, would life ever stop hurting him? He choked out a half-cry, hanging onto the image of Storm's face in his mind's eye, but watching it start to slip away as the despair began to drown him.

"Ororo, please get closer to him." Jean's sudden words caught the weather manipulator off guard, as transfixed as she'd been by the impromptu telekinetic operation. Belatedly, she realized the redhead had used her given name and not her codename.

"Wh… what?" she stammered, glancing over at Logan's twitching, tense form.

"Please do it," Jean replied urgently. "Just get close to him, maybe touch him. Let him know you're with him. He's hurting so much he's projecting quite loudly; I can _feel_ him trying to ease his own pain, and he's focusing on _you_, hon." Storm was startled, lips parting in surprise, but the thought that he needed her was enough incentive in spite of how strange it felt. As his friend, of course she'd do whatever she could to help. She pointedly ignored the tiny thrill in her soul at the thought of Logan believing that just thinking of her could help ease his suffering. Ororo set the flashlight down on a piece of partially crumbled wall support so Jean could still see and then stepped closer to his left side, placing a slender hand on his upper arm. At the unexpected contact his eyes flew open, and he looked down at her, initial expression beginning to form a snarl. Storm was amazed to see him just… stop. His gaze was wide open, face flushed with fever and damp with sweat, but the pinched look to his features had lessened some. Judging by his first reaction to the touch, she'd expected a fierce growl or rebuke at her nearness. Instead he was just staring at her, twitching occasionally, but far calmer than before.

"Logan, I'm here," she couldn't help whispering. They held each other's gaze, hazel meeting deep chocolate. She focused on exuding a sense of calm, hoping it would aid the feral's struggle with himself. "Take a deep breath for me." Logan did just that, a slow inhale through his nose, her scent moving through him and tickling some part of his brain that associated her with all things good. Ororo was startled but pleased when he did as she asked, hoping it would help him focus away from the pain. To her surprise his face went entirely lax, gaze turning hazy and soft in…. she blinked. Ahem. That certainly couldn't be a look of pleasure on his features, not with the metallic ring of another spike echoing in the basement as it dropped from his calf and hit the floor. How long had they been staring at each other? Storm risked a glance at Jean and saw the redhead looking decidedly too amused and pleased with herself. "Focus on the task at hand, _Jeannie_." Her pointed use of the nickname that usually came from Logan left the other woman feeling slightly admonished. While the thought of Logan carrying a torch for her friend was appealing, and a bit sweet, she had more important things to do. Storm's gaze then turned away, her attention back on Wolverine as another jagged piece of metal began the slow process of being removed.

"'Ro, it hurts," he rumbled, voice deep and hoarse. It was as if the moment had passed, a spell had broken, and he was in pain again. He stared at her as if she were a lifeline, the only thing that mattered, and the raw emotion in his eyes touched her deeply. Storm reached up and put her hand on his whiskered jaw, thumb brushing his sweat-damp cheek.

"I know Logan, I know. Just two more, hold on for us. It's going to be better soon. We'll take you home." She tried to keep her voice even, but still heard it tremble just slightly with sorrow for his pain.

"You." The muttered word was gone almost before she'd caught it.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You're home." He seemed suddenly embarrassed at the admission, as if he'd been saying the words in his mind and they had come out before he thought to stop them. The look on his face was more like his old self than she'd seen since they'd found him, though, and Ororo's eyes went wide. He was serious. Oh God. She leaned against the rough concrete wall as her knees felt a little weak. There was no mistaking the meaning behind _that_. He _couldn't_ be serious though; he was drunk with pain, he'd been tortured, there was no way he would be thinking… She kept her hand on his cheek as they looked at each other. He was breathing slow and deep again and it seemed to be helping, giving her time to process the thoughts she desperately hoped to _not_ be projecting. Logan didn't just talk for no reason; when he said something, it was with purpose, and he meant it. The only conclusion she could reach was that her brave, loyal, admirable, and very attractive teammate had feelings for her. Storm pushed the distracting thoughts aside as Logan gasped softly and his entire body tensed.

"Sorry," she heard Jean mutter. "This piece is bigger…" Storm shuddered, annoyed with herself. This was not the time or place to be musing about relationships, or the possibility of one. She petted the feral's muttonchop gently, trying to soothe him again. Later maybe, when Logan was better, they could have a talk. But it was more important in the current situation for her to be focused and calm.

"This one's almost done Logan, hold on a bit longer. We're really, really close to freeing you," she said, hoping to keep him focused on her with soothing words. She saw the exact moment the big piece of metal was removed because his expression tightened drastically and then he lost all focus, eyes closing as he sank into peaceful oblivion. "Logan!" Storm cried, worried, and Jean jumped, quickly looking up. "Jean, how is he?!" The redhead reached out to his mind, concentrating for a few seconds before she sighed softly with relief.

"He's passed out completely, thank goodness. It's probably better this way, because I still have one more to remove and it'll be easier if I can go faster." Storm's heartbeat slowed from the anxious pace it had set, unwilling to watch the mutant doctor removing the last spike. She rested her gaze on Logan's face.

"I failed him," she murmured quietly. She'd been hoping to help keep his pain away, but it had still overwhelmed him.

"No you didn't." The redhead's answer startled her, and she felt a little angry at the redhead's almost neutral tone, spoken almost absently while concentrating on the final protruding shard of metal.

"But I did! The pain was still too much for him and he passed out. That wasn't what I wanted for him." Storm's voice trailed off.

"It _was_ for the best, though." Jean's tone was thoughtful, musing as she worked. "Your presence, you talking to him, that helped calm him enough that the pain could put him out for a little while. If he'd still been agitated or angry, the adrenaline would have kept him awake, but it wouldn't have helped with the pain like a true rage. I think Logan had been fighting that anger for a while, I could feel it constantly in the background of his mind. You _did_ allow him to escape the hurt." Ororo chewed her lower lip gently in thought. There was a good deal of sense in that; Logan handled pain far better than most people, so it took a great deal to actually take him down when he was in a fighting mindset. She rubbed the feral's limp arm, trying to lend him comfort and support even when he wasn't fully aware of her. The familiar clang of metal made her start slightly. "Thank _God_ that was the last one!" Jean exclaimed, twisting a little to ease stiff muscles. She had been focusing intently for the better part of an hour, and was definitely feeling it, leading to a terse message to Scott letting him know they were coming back up. "Let's get him out of here."


	9. A Sense of Worth pt 9

Storm's flashlight guided Jean as she used her power to levitate Logan up the stairs, glad to be heading toward an end to the madness they'd seen in the basement. Voices that had been talking quieted as their footsteps were heard, but as the feral's prone form floated into sight there was a round of gasps, including one from Scott. Logan did look very bad, Storm had to admit, with his clothing mostly shredded and blood staining what remained, and a paleness to his skin that was entirely out of place and made him look very ill. Once they'd exited the narrow stairwell, Ororo moved to place herself by his side, her hand lightly resting on his arm. The students made as if to step forward all at once, but then halted, letting the women and their charge come into the kitchen area unimpeded. Storm could tell they wanted to crowd forward, to get close and assure themselves he was alive and going to be okay, but they were respectful of his space, simply waiting. They stared, though, eyes wide and worried, and Bobby put his arm around Rogue as she began to tremble slightly.

"I know it looks bad guys, but he's stable and doing better now. Let's focus on getting him home, there's nothing more we can do here," Jean said in a calm, no-nonsense voice that pulled the kids back from their thoughts. They filed out of the house, making Storm glad that it was dark and private, because they would have presented a strange sight, with a floating man being escorted by a group of teens and adults into a mysterious jet. She breathed a sigh of relief as they all boarded the Blackbird, watching Jean set Logan up in the small med area and begin cleaning the partially-healed wounds. It would be a very short trip back to the mansion, and then they'd get him settled in. At least this time, Logan's healing wasn't completely short-circuited, but the weather manipulator was more worried about his mental healing. She had an image stuck in her head, a memory of the fear on his face when he'd woken up and practically screamed that he wasn't an animal.

"What do you think happened?" she whispered to Jean, who paused and looked up.

"Isn't it obvious?" the redhead replied with a sympathetic look at the bedraggled figure between them. Storm pursed her lips in annoyance, but knew it was a confusing question.

"No, I mean… you saw how he was when he woke up. What did Magneto _do_ to him to get that kind of reaction? I don't think I've ever seen Logan so terrified." Jean's expression softened as she considered that, looking down again at the topic of discussion, and was startled to see hazel eyes looking up at her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed softly. Oh dear, how much had he heard? Being caught talking about him like a pair of gossips would be embarrassing, to say the least… Storm seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she jumped in as Jean faltered, as if trying to distract him.

"Logan, how are you feeling? Are you… okay?" Dark eyelashes fluttered slightly as he blinked and turned his gaze to her, looking as if he were trying to stay awake, but his lips had quirked into a half smile.

"I'm fine, 'Ro. Better, anyway." Nobody had noticed their conversation yet, as they were talking quietly, although she and Jean had been aiming for privacy, while Logan still seemed a little weak. "I was in school," he murmured suddenly, making them stare at him. Was he imagining something? Perhaps having hallucinations to escape the memory of pain? At their completely confused expressions he laughed wryly, choking slightly on the sound as it made his _everything_ hurt. The damage was apparently still healing up the rest of the way on his insides. "Magneto said he was… teaching me a lesson. Not sure, but I think it was for the warehouse mission, where I got the blueprints." Storm looked outraged but kept quiet, her dark eyes sparking with electricity. Logan didn't seem too concerned, as if he'd put it all behind him, but the white-haired woman wasn't so sure about that; she'd seen how he'd been after Stryker had him, and whatever Magneto had done had been just as cruel.

"Just lay there and rest, Logan," Jean soothed, seeing how upset Storm was getting. "We'll be back home soon." The feral nodded and suddenly took Ororo's hand, ignoring the redhead's interested gaze. He looked up at the weather goddess with a serious expression, fingers gently cradling hers, and she had a flash of his words in the basement, that in essence, _she_ was his home. Her cheeks heated. As she watched, he struggled to stay awake, eyelids fluttering briefly, and then he lost the battle, drifting asleep still holding her hand. They really did need to have a talk.


	10. A Sense of Worth pt 10

The next day found Xavier's school to be proceeding as usual, with classes taking place and students moving from hall to hall, chattering and socializing, just like any other place of learning. However, this particular school had, among its own peculiarities, a grumpy Wolverine who was stalking out of the kitchen and wishing he'd either had breakfast earlier or later. After a night's sleep with just one general nightmare, Logan had gotten up that morning and taken the longest shower of his life. He'd been too weary the night before to clean up, barely taking the time to shed his bloody clothes and fall into bed, and so had busied himself in throwing away the ruined garments and washing up properly. He'd felt so much better that it seemed a good idea to grab a bite to eat, and that's where the trouble began. Jean was following him quickly, her low heels clicking on the kitchen floor before she hit the plush rug just outside.

"Logan, please, I don't want to do anything invasive. Okay? Just an overall examination, I promise." Apparently, the redhead seemed to believe he should go down to the med lab and let her run some tests. The feral snorted.

"I think I've had enough poking and prodding to last me for a while, Jeannie," he retorted, although without too much real heat behind the words. He could tell she was sincere in her intention to help, but she knew how he felt about being down there… "I'm fine." His voice held a finality, but the doctor wasn't about to give up. As she followed him down the hall toward the rec room, she pulled a new voice into the conversation by grabbing Storm's arm as the other woman passed by. Having been on her way to the greenhouse, the weather manipulator was startled to be essentially ambushed, looking between a determined Jean and a scowling Logan.

"Storm, tell Logan that he needs to let me give him an examination, just to make sure he's perfectly all right." Ororo understood then why the feral was acting that way, and hid a smile. His dislike of anything medically-oriented was famous, and completely understandable, but in this case…

"Logan, maybe you should just humor Jean. She only has your best interests at heart." Hazel eyes softened a bit, but Logan still looked irritable.

"I know, but I don't need it. Do I look like I need to be examined?" Storm couldn't resist.

"Only your head." Her attitude was so casual that it took him a second to process the actual meaning of what she had said.

"Hey! Well… besides that!" he sputtered, trying to regain his scowl, but there was a smile sneaking around the corners of his mouth. Jean managed to hide her amusement; after all, she was trying to persuade him to do something, and it would be counterproductive to make him annoyed with her. Ororo chuckled softly, then composed herself and lightly took his wrist in her hand, dark eyes gazing up at him.

"Really, Logan, please do what Jean asks. We'd all feel better to know that you truly are all right." He looked to be teetering on the edge of decision, finally sighing heavily as if extremely put out.

"Fine. But I expect compensation for inconvenience and mental anguish." Jean took that as her victory, ignoring the other woman's soft laugh at his martyrdom, and lost no time in grabbing the wrist Storm had been holding.

"We'll come up with something," the redhead promised, beginning to pull him along. Logan shot Storm a startled look that made her laugh again, but allowed himself to be led away, keeping in his mind a vision of the sparkling humor in her eyes.

x_X_x

"Satisfied now?" Logan asked with a smirk as he reached for his long-sleeved denim shirt where it lay on a counter, right next to the exam table he'd been sitting on for almost thirty minutes. Thankfully it really had been just an examination, where she'd checked his basic vitals and compared them to the charts in his file. Very meticulously. But it was usually a little cool down in the med lab, and he only had his jeans and wife beater on, making him pull on the overshirt gladly. His boot soles thumped the floor when he got to his feet, glad to have that over. Jean's face was a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"I wasn't doing this for my own entertainment, you know." She gave the most elegant eye roll he had ever seen. Didn't even know that was possible. "Yes, your fever was gone by the time we got you back to the mansion, and I know you had healed, but I just wanted to make sure you were fully okay. You went through a lot in a short time. I figured a check-up couldn't hurt." Logan couldn't help the first thought that came to mind at her statement, and grinned at the telepath, one eyebrow arched.

"Oh, so you wanted to check me out, huh?" he teased, beginning to roll up the denim sleeves a few times. Jean laughed lightly, shaking her head.

"Logan, we both know that _I'm_ not the one you want to do that." He sobered immediately, caught in mid-motion before he came back to himself and finished turning up the right-hand cuff.

"Not sure if anything would ever come from it," he admitted while keeping his gaze turned down to the floor, and Jean was startled at the pained honesty in the words. She remembered Logan's impulsive confession of sorts in the basement to Ororo, the two words 'you're home' hitting the weather witch hard, but maybe Logan hadn't been able to see, or smell, her reaction from behind the wall of pain and anger he'd been going through.

"It might, if you'll just talk with her," Jean said mildly while tidying things up. She hoped she wasn't coming across as pushy, but with some observation and time, she'd come to realize how easily Logan could put himself down or believe the worst of himself. It would be a shame if something potentially good wasn't given a chance because it wasn't thought possible, whatever the imagined reason. Jean had been there, had actually seen Storm surprised by their resident feral's words before that initial startlement turned to some genuine interest, complete with heated cheeks. Not to mention the telepathic doctor was a secret romantic, in spite of the cool exterior she liked to cultivate, and the matchup of feral and weather goddess could have easily come from a fairy tale. She finished putting away her tools of the trade and leaned against the counter, ankles crossed and arms folded under her chest. Logan gave her a quick side glance and shrugged. He had nothing left to fiddle with after finishing his sleeves, and appeared lost as to what to do with his hands. There was a look of discomfort on his face that she would never have associated with the feral's usual bravado.

"Is what it is," he commented, voice a little rough. Jean sighed softly.

"Logan, the best advice I can give you is to not try and second-guess Ororo. And please, don't sell yourself short, either. I know you've made a lot of progress since you first came here, but sometimes you revert to old habits." She leaned forward and took his left hand in hers, patting it gently while smiling up at him. "Don't discard the idea so readily. You might be surprised if you try to have a little faith." They were both so caught up in the moment that not even Logan realized Scott had entered the med lab, and the team's leader stopped short, eyebrows raising at their joined hands and nearness to one another. He was supposed to be helping Jean correlate and organize some data and files, but it looked like she'd been caught up in another project.

"Am I interrupting something…?" he asked, going in further. Their position did look compromising, to say the least, but he trusted his fiancée, and strange as it was, he didn't see Logan as a threat anymore. Jean gave him a big smile and turned away from Wolverine, who took the opportunity to make an exit. The telepath could feel the embarrassment coming off of him and hid a laugh. The poor man was experiencing so many new situations in the place he called home. He'd obviously changed a great deal, because the feral they first met would have probably strutted and smirked instead of feeling true concern over giving Scott a reason to doubt his fiancée. He also would never have let himself be that vulnerable to her in the first place.

"Just having a little heart to heart." She gave Scott a sweet kiss in greeting before giving him a mental promise to explain further later on. First, they had work to do.


	11. A Sense of Worth pt 11

High up in the air was the closest feeling to heaven that Ororo could imagine. The warm sunshine and cool breeze swept over her as she rode the wind, reveling in a moment of freedom over the school's grounds. After checking a few seedlings in the greenhouse that she was in the process of cultivating, the weather goddess had decided to let loose for a while and take a flying break. From her bird's eye view it was even more beautiful than usual, with sprawling lawns and landscaping meshing with the wooded areas on its fringes. The coming autumn had started turning some of the leaves, providing smudges of color against the green that made the whole thing look like an impressively large impressionist painting. Storm paused in her flight, hovering as she caught a glimpse of something down below and dropped a dozen feet to get a better look. At the edge of a wooded area was someone sitting on a bench. It was Logan, his distinctive physique and hair the perfect identifier. Surprisingly, he wasn't taking an opportunistic smoke break; he was just sitting there, with his forearms resting on his thighs and hands lightly clasped together, staring at the ground. He looked so alone that her first thought was to drop down and give him some company, but caution override the impulse. She would hate to intrude upon some private time if he… wait, did he just wipe his face? No, his eyes, to be more precise. An icy feeling gripped her heart before dropping into her stomach. Oh no, was he reliving some terrible memory? There was no thinking after that, Ororo simply lowered from the sky, landing gently on the ground several yards away from the feral. It was a testament to how truly distracted he was that he didn't even notice her, just stayed there looking as if he had some heavy weight on his shoulders.

"Hey," Storm said softly, not moving. Logan's eyes jerked up, meeting hers with a startled expression at having his thoughts interrupted by the very person he was thinking of. He spared a moment to be glad he'd already dried his eyes, or else she'd have seen the dampness on his face. He straightened up, taking in a little gulp of air to steady himself.

"Hey 'Ro," came the rumbling reply, his voice deep and a little hoarse from the emotion clogging his throat. Of all the bad timing, having Storm come across him right when he was in the middle of a good mental talking-to, telling himself he might have to live with seeing her every day while keeping his feelings a secret. He knew he'd be able to do it, but damn if the thought itself hadn't made him die a little inside, and the part of him that died had ended up trickling down his cheeks. Despite what Jean had said, he couldn't shake the thought, the fear, that Ororo was simply being her usual, kind self and that there was nothing but friendly concern behind the tenderness she had shown him.

"Communing with nature?" The soft teasing words came from beside him, and he was taken aback to find she had sat down on the bench while he was again distracted by his mental wonderings. Oh hell. He was losing it, wasn't he? The feral gave her a weak smile and shrugged half-heartedly.

"Thinking." Logan winced internally, staring back down at the ground. Well he was certainly winning no awards in the conversation department. He was floundering, caught between wanting to say things that might be better left unsaid, or just playing it safe and never revealing a thing. Luckily, she didn't seem put off in the slightest, sitting there quietly and looking over the grounds toward the school. He could just feel the warmth of her body, an awareness of her leg so close to his and her pure scent calming the whirl of his thoughts. Logan didn't feel quite as anxious, letting himself drift on the contentment that her presence brought. Would he ever be able to keep on living without this feeling? Without her? He hated to think what life would be like without this only glimpse of peace he could remember. Sure, he had done it before, but it was impossible to miss what you'd never had. Now that he'd experienced this… Without knowing it, the feral gasped out loud as a thought hit him right between the eyes, making her turn toward him with concern.

"Are you all right?" she asked, position even closer with her body angled so their knees touched. Logan simply stared at her, having come to a startling realization. Just like the power inherent in her name, she was the eye of his personal storm, sheltering his battered soul from the chaos and rage that surrounded him. Hadn't she reached him even through the hurt that threatened to drown him completely?

"How do you do that?" The words leapt from his mouth, slightly plaintive, startling the both of them.

"Do what, Logan?" she asked, looking confused at his reaction. His attitude appeared both lost and amazed, a strange mix coming from the warrior in front of her. Logan could only stare into her eyes, unable to stop himself from speaking, because he truly wanted to know the secret

"Make me feel human." Storm jerked back a little, shock and anger chasing each other across her beautiful features.

"You _are_ human Logan! You should never think you aren't! I swear, if I could get hold of Stryker again I would…"

"I know, I know," he soothed, placing a hand on her knee to stop the burgeoning tirade. Her instinctive reaction, one ready to rage and support him at the same time, was enough to make him smile. "I really do know. Magneto kept trying to convince me I was an animal, was hurting me to _make_ me an animal. But I knew better. I wouldn't give in because I really know that I'm more than that. And a big part of that was because of Marie, how she cares for me and sees the best in me. But in that moment, when I was so drowning in pain that I felt the rage rising up, I stopped myself… and it was thanks to you." He could just see her startled look out of the corner of his eye, but wasn't sure he was ready to fully face her while talking about something so precious to him. That memory, of overcoming the maddening anger when he'd worried about proving Magneto right, was like a cleansing rain to his soul, but he didn't want to share it with just anybody. Jean had to have noticed the end result, his realization of some utmost importance being placed on Ororo. That much was obvious from their conversation in the med lab, but he knew she would give him his privacy and not go telling anyone. Jeannie was okay. The hardest part was Storm. It meant so much to him, _she_ meant so much to him, that he was worried he'd screw this up simply because he was so damn afraid of screwing it up. "You're pretty amazing…" he finally said, settling for something complimentary and hopefully vague enough that she wouldn't immediately, but kindly, set him straight about the wonderful and frustrating feelings he was having for her. Logan belatedly realized his hand was still on her knee and moved it quickly. Hazel eyes glanced up when she didn't say anything at first, meeting her speculative gaze, and he got worried. Uh oh. What was she thinking? He hoped she'd take what he'd just said at face value, as a friendly kind of thing. The feral couldn't remember everything from his rescue, but definitely saw in his mind the startled look in her eyes when he'd opened himself up, said words he couldn't take back. He sure wanted to, even though he'd really meant them. Two words… just two damn words and he was teetering between hope and heartache. Logan could only pray that she'd brushed off what he'd said in the basement as shock, or delusion, so please, don't let her bring up the-

"And I'm home… right?" Shit. He'd hoped to have more time to come to grips with his own fear and uncertainty before even coming close to this conversation, but true to Storm's nature she had cut to the heart of the matter. Logan's shoulders hunched a little as he gave her a wry smile.

"Is it too much to hope you'd believe me if I said I was out of my mind?" He took refuge in humor, quirking one eyebrow as he spoke. Storm gave a smile in return, and then placed her hand gently on his denim-clad bicep, knowing he seemed uncomfortable, but also knowing they needed to finally talk.

"I actually would believe that. You'd been through quite a lot of something by the time we found you. But I also believe that you know your own mind, and no matter your mental state, you were speaking from the heart. I felt it, Logan." She didn't want to bring Jean into the conversation and how the telepathic woman had been able to feel his thoughts in his distress; whether he already knew of her knowledge or didn't, it would only embarrass him needlessly. "Please don't belittle the moment by lying, even in jest." Her heartfelt plea made him sigh.

"Sorry 'Ro. I just… it's hard to explain. Ever since the team got me out of Stryker's base, I've been feeling… you…" Apparently having trouble organizing his thoughts, he glanced up at her, almost shyly she noticed. "Hell darlin', you knocked my feet out from under me when you gave me that kiss down in the med lab. And my world hasn't been the same since." Storm's mouth opened in surprise. She hadn't given a second thought to the gentle peck on his cheek months ago, offered in an impulsive desire to prove the truth in what she had told him and so reassure the feral that he was cared for and had a home. One simple act had led to this unexpected influx of feelings for the both of them. She couldn't stop the short laugh that escaped her and Logan looked at her sideways, almost hurt. Storm caught a glimpse of his wounded expression before he covered it up and immediately felt bad.

"I'm sorry Logan, I wasn't laughing at you. I was just laughing at how one small action can cause so many ripples in the pond." Hazel eyes filled with confusion.

"So many ripples…? How does this messed-up mind of mine rate that kind of wording?" he asked dryly with a hint of wry smile. It was her turn to be puzzled for a minute before she realized he must think he was in this alone, that she wasn't affected the same as he had been. Or maybe he hoped she wasn't… that would be easier in a sense, wouldn't it? Loneliness was an old friend of Logan's. But happiness? That was probably far scarier, seeing how transient it could be. Ororo faced him fully, liquid brown eyes boring into hazel.

"First things first, nothing about you is 'messed up', so don't even go there," she warned sternly. Logan's lips quirked slightly with humor.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, sensing the impending dressing down he was going to get, just like when she'd laid it out for him in his room at the school. Storm couldn't quite stop the chuckle that left her, but smothered it in favor of looking like a teacher faced with her most troublesome student. She mock-scoffed slightly at his teasing, enjoying the playful banter, but refusing to be distracted.

"I know I don't show much in the way of my feelings, just like _you_…" she pointedly said as he uttered a soft bark of laughter. He immediately looked contrite and stilled himself, letting her continue. "But in spite of how it may seem, I'm certainly not without emotion. And believe me, Logan, I am _very_ much affected by you." His lips parted slightly with surprise, face open and allowing her to see that vulnerable man inside of him again, the version of himself she hadn't encountered since watching over him in the med lab after his rescue from Stryker. The knowledge that he would allow her to see that much filled her with delight, a smile spreading across her face. Storm took his hand, her slender mocha-colored fingers looking small and fragile against his own larger digits. "I feel like my eyes have been opened, Logan. And my heart opened with them. I've always seen you as a loyal friend and teammate, with many good qualities. Yes, _good_," she insisted as he almost pulled away, keeping his hand firmly in her grip. Those beautiful hazel eyes weren't looking at her though, and she forced herself to remain calm and keep talking. Logan was still having trouble with compliments, it would seem. "But now I can see more. A surprisingly gentle man who would bring a troubled girl under his protection, who defends fiercely, perhaps with love in him to match that?" The question was posed with raised white brows, a hint of flirtation warming her gaze. "I see a man I could imagine spending a life with." Her dark eyes looked up into his. Logan was speechless, hearing her say aloud the very words he'd thought to himself at the bar earlier that day.

"'Ro, I-" She cut him off by placing two fingers on his mouth before her index finger lightly dragged over the smooth skin of his lips, making him shudder. A little groan rumbled in his chest as his eyes half-closed.

"No more thinking, Logan. Time for a little more action." His heavy-lidded gaze caught her expression as it left 'sweet' and headed more toward 'sultry', the transition sending heat coiling through him. It was a side of Storm he couldn't have imagined, a woman who would wholeheartedly ignite the passion that was escalating between them. Her hands gripped his muttonchops, gently pulling his face down to her level before she met his mouth with hers, and they shared a soft, slow kiss. Logan's arm snaked around her waist, arm muscles bunching as he pulled her close. Storm felt so light, as if she weighed no more than the wind she liked to ride on, but it was enough as she settled astride his lap, enough to feel her sleek form pressed into his harder physique as the kiss began to deepen. Logan's sharp hearing then picked up something, just barely audible above the sound of his own pounding heart and ragged breathing: gasps and giggling. He jerked back slightly and canted his head to look over Ororo's left shoulder, eyes widening as he saw a small cluster of kids at the edge of the nearby English garden.

"Oh damn," he ground out, both embarrassed and amused at being caught in a pretty heated make out session with the lovely weather witch.

"Logan, what…?" Storm of course didn't have heightened senses, and was worried at his change in demeanor. Her question was cut off as he suddenly stood up, making her gasp and grab onto his neck. He easily held her weight and set her down gently on the ground before taking several stalking steps forward in a vaguely threatening manner. Logan saw the children's expressions change from laughter to shock as they realized they were actually spying on the Wolverine himself. It was then Storm caught the sounds of squealing and running footsteps, turning around and following his gaze to the retreating forms of about five students who were racing back to the school. A hand covered her mouth, laughter filling her eyes.

"Oops. Busted," she commented teasingly.

"Aw hell…" Logan grunted, bending down to pull her up into his arms, her feet leaving the ground as he cradled her tightly against his chest with brawny arms. "In for a penny…" he quipped, before their mouths met again and there was no more talking.


End file.
